


Let It Snow

by aroacejeanprouvaire



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 19:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5260982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroacejeanprouvaire/pseuds/aroacejeanprouvaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt:<br/>Somehow, even though they strongly dislike each other, Grantaire and Enjolras are on holiday in the mountains, together with the Amis.<br/>Somehow, even though it's like really dangerous, everyone's gone out to slide off mountains on whatever flat surface available, leaving the two of them behind.<br/>Somehow, even though there was no warning of it in the weather forecast, they have gotten snowed in and are now stuck for what could be hours. Hours!<br/>Enjolras is cold, Grantaire is sleepy.<br/>This can only end one way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let It Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [knighthooded](https://archiveofourown.org/users/knighthooded/gifts).



Grantaire wakes up slowly, fighting it every inch of the way. When it finally becomes clear that there’s no chance of going back to sleep, he opens his eyes and reaches for his phone. It’s 1:13pm, which makes Grantaire realise how hungry he is. He has no idea where the kitchen is in the little holiday house they’re all staying in, but he gets unsteadily out of bed and goes to look.

As he opens the bedroom door he thinks that the house seems oddly quiet, considering there’s nine people staying in it, and then the door is open, and he is standing in the entrance to the living room, which is occupied by Enjolras, and only Enjolras. It’s at this moment that he realises that he’s wearing nothing but his boxers (which wouldn’t usually bother him around his friends, but all at once it feels wildly inappropriate).

Enjolras glances up from his laptop and says, “Oh.”

Grantaire is too tired for this. He is too tired for Enjolras’ entire existence. He goes back into the room and pulls on the shirt and jeans from the day before, then goes back out. “Sorry.” He says, and then, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Enjolras returns. “I didn’t know you were in there. Did you have a big night or something?”

Grantaire isn’t sure if there’s really a sneer in Enjolras’ voice or if he just imagines it, but imagined or not, he reacts to it. “Enjolras, do you think I drank so much on our first night here that I passed out until 1pm?”

Enjolras shrugs. “It’s none of my business if you did. I ended up going to sleep early so I don’t really know what went on.”

“I only got here four hours ago.”

“I- what? You didn’t come last night?”

“No, I had a night shift at the hotel last night. I was working until 6am. After that I drove straight here, with multiple stops for coffee, which took three hours. Then I managed to sleep for four hours. Now I am unfortunately awake, and I need food, and more coffee, and for you to piss off with your assumptions about me.”

Grantaire storms out, and the affect is only slightly diminished by him choosing the door to the bathroom and having to turn around and go back across the room. He finds the kitchen without too much trouble (it’s a pretty small place), and by that point he’s been through the whole house and it’s become pretty clear that no one else is there.

He makes coffee, and toast, and sits down at the kitchen table. He considers asking Enjolras where everyone went, but further conversation seems ill advised. Instead, he texts ‘what the hell man, where is everyone?’ to Bossuet.

A few minutes later his phone beeps and he has a message from Bossuet saying ‘R, my love, the light of my life, I’m sorry but no one was game to wake you. how do you look that grumpy in your sleep?’

A moment later this is followed by, ‘oh, in answer to your question, we are sliding off a mountain. well, everyone else is. I think I sprained my wrist but Joly thinks I broke something so he’s taking me to find a doctor in town because he is no fun.’

And then, ‘Joly says he is lots of fun and that badly healed wrists are no fun. I defer to his expertise.’

Grantaire smiles for the first time all day and texts back, ‘dude this is literally our first day here. you’re supposed to wait at least two days before obtaining any injuries. we talked about this.’ Then, ‘why is Enjolras here?’

‘he said he had work to do.’

‘work more important than sliding off a mountain?’

‘he remains a mystery.’

Grantaire puts his phone back in his pocket and walks quietly back to the living room. From the doorway he can see Enjolras’ laptop screen, and he’s scrolling through tumblr. For anyone else this could have meant they were taking a break from working, or got distracted, but Grantaire knows for a fact that Enjolras has some program installed which he uses to block tumblr and facebook whenever he’s working on anything.

There’s absolutely no point in mentioning it. Talking to Enjolras at all is a bad idea, and criticising his work ethic is even worse. But Grantaire is tired, and not known for self-restraint at the best of times. He says, “Bossuet said you stayed behind to do work.”

Enjolras whirls around. “I… yes, I did.”

“How come you’re not working?”

“I… that’s none of your business.”

“Could you really not go and have fun with your friends just once? On a holiday you came on, with your friends, presumably to have fun? You had to make an excuse when you didn’t even have work to do that was pressing enough to keep you off tumblr?”

Enjolras looks more hurt than angry, but there’s anger in his voice. “I said it’s none of your business, Grantaire.” He shuts his laptop and marches out of the room.

Grantaire’s head hurts. He goes back to bed.

 

In Grantaire’s dream everything is soft and light. A shadow passes before his eyes once, then the light comes back. And then the shadow returns, again and again, flickering in and out.

He wakes up to find Enjolras pacing in front of his doorway.

He’s barely opened his eyes before Enjolras is in the room. “You’re awake. Good. We’re snowed in. Do you know what to do? Do you think the others are okay? This has never happened to me before. My phone has no signal so I can’t call anyone. Have you ever been snowed in before? The lights went out and I think we have no power now and it’s getting cold and I don’t know what to do, do you know what to do?”

Grantaire blinks. Then he looks at his phone. He has a text from Bahorel that says, ‘not dead’, and one from Jehan saying ‘Bahorel volunteered to reassure you that we took shelter in a café when the snow stared getting heavy, and that we’ll come back as soon as the roads are driveable - I’m assuming he didn’t actually say any of that, so this is my Bahorel follow-up text.’

Grantaire looks at Enjolras, fretting in the doorway, and doesn’t quite feel up to sympathy yet. “Your provider is shit. I’ve got three bars of signal. The others are fine.” He gathers the blankets around him and rolls over to face the wall.

A minute or so passes, and then a hand taps urgently at his shoulder. “But what about the power? The heating isn’t on anymore. What do we do?”

“Put some extra coats on.” Grantaire says into his pillow. “You’re not going to freeze to death before it gets fixed.”

“Maybe I should stay here.”

“You… what?”

“I just… I think I’ll just stay in here.”

“Why would you do that? What possible reason could there be for you to-“

“I’m scared, okay!”

Grantaire finally rolls back over to look at Enjolras. “Of the dark?”

“Of the snow!”

“It can’t get to you in here.”

“You don’t _know_ that!” Enjolras’ voice is anguished, and Grantaire finally realises that the time for teasing is well over. “Snow makes rooves collapse, and people _do_ die of cold, you know, and no one will be able to drive up here with that much snow on the roads, not for a few hours at the least, so we’re all alone, in the cold, and I know I’m being ridiculous, okay, I _know_ , but I can’t help it and I wish that for once you could take me seriously.”

Grantaire sits up hurriedly. “I do, I mean, I am! I’m taking you seriously.” There are definitely tears welling up in Enjolras’ eyes and shit, shit, this isn’t supposed to happen, Grantaire has no protocols for a crying Enjolras. “I’m sorry, I was being a dick, I didn’t realise. Please just tell me what I can do to help.”

“Just stop making fun of me.”

“Done. So done. Totally stopped. Anything else?”

“You’re still making fun of me!” And with that Enjolras is properly crying, and running out of the room, despite Grantaire’s frantic assurances that he wasn’t making fun, and then, well, then he’s gone, and Grantaire doesn’t see any point in going after him. He lies back down, and continues to tell himself that there’s no point in going after Enjolras.

He manages for about fifteen minutes before throwing off the covers, pulling on a few more layers of clothing, and going in search of him.

Grantaire finds Enjolras in another bedroom which, from the look of the belongings around the place, he is probably sharing with Feuilly, Courfeyrac and Combeferre. Enjolras has dragged all the covers off one of the beds, wrapped himself in them, and sat himself in a corner. He’s still crying, softly, and every rational part of Grantaire is yelling ‘danger’ and ‘run’, but he forces himself to remember that on some level they’re friends, and you don’t just run away from a crying friend.

He approaches carefully, as though Enjolras is a small wild animal who might startle at any moment. “Can I sit with you?”

Enjolras just shrugs and says, “okay”, very quietly.

Grantaire sits. After a while he tentatively puts an arm around the bundle of blankets that is Enjolras, ready to spring back if the gesture is unwelcome. Enjolras leans into him almost immediately, which is so unexpected that Grantaire has no idea what to do, so he just sits there silently, gently holding Enjolras to him.

After a while Enjolras says “I’m sorry.”

Grantaire has no idea what he’s apologising for, so he stays still and says nothing.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, while I was being so irrational. And I’m sorry you had to get up and come comfort me over nothing.”

“You’re not bothering me. And it’s okay to be scared of things.” He thinks for a moment and adds. “Sorry for giving you shit about not going to have fun with the others. I realise now that what they’re doing is probably pretty far from your idea of fun.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t tell you why I didn’t go, so your conclusions made sense from the information you had. I’m sorry for making assumptions about why you slept so late and-“

“Nope, that’s enough, we have to stop now.”

“What?” Enjolras looks taken aback.

“No more apologising. I’m banning it. I’m banning apologising in this cuddle pile. This is officially an apology free zone.”

Enjolras shuffles awkwardly, but smiles and says, “okay.”

Grantaire looks down at Enjolras, who is unashamedly snuggling into his side. “You still cold?”

Enjolras looks at him. Their faces are close, and Grantaire has imagined this part before. This is what he’s thought about; being close to Enjolras like this. Only in real life there’s no palpable tension, no excitement or racing hearts. In real life it’s just kind of weird, and the way they’re sitting is getting a little uncomfortable.

Enjolras says, “Yeah, still a bit cold.”

“I can get another blanket or something.”

“No, I’m warming up.” He considers Grantaire for a moment and then peels back his blankets and says, “Here.”

Grantaire shifts closer and lets Enjolras wrap blankets around him, mostly because he doesn’t know what else he can do.

Enjolras snuggles in and puts his head on Grantaire’s shoulder. Grantaire puts his arm back around Enjolras, tugging him closer, and lets his own head rest on Enjolras’.

 

A very confused Combeferre finds them there several hours later, fast asleep.


End file.
